


You're everything a big bad wolf could want

by WithAWhisper



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Swapfell, Bone Fondling, Ecto-Penis (Undertale), Ecto-Tongue (Undertale), F/M, Grinding, Teasing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 21:34:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12308253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WithAWhisper/pseuds/WithAWhisper
Summary: You're not little red riding hood but you shouldn't go teasing your tall dark, dank boyfriend anyway.





	You're everything a big bad wolf could want

**Author's Note:**

> Oh hey look at that, a sequel to my other fic where maybe I get to the actual dicking like a proper ol' smut fic.

You wanted to try something on your boyfriend.

It’s one of those times again. Your maybe/maybe not horniness mood. After the first time when he fingered you (you still blush even thinking about it, ugh) and your _attempted_ ‘blowjob but switched to handjob midway because you got nervous’…

You think you got addicted to sexual pleasure.

Maybe addicted is too strong of a word, you weren’t ALWAYS up for it, but you have been fixated on it for awhile now, exploring yourself and your boyfriend, and he to you, and um, it was. Nice.

More than nice.

See, Rus is pretty calm and collected whenever you two get frisky but you? Uh, not so much? And that’s fair, maybe that’s just a matter of experience and your boyfriend’s been around the block, you’ve seen it, you’ve witnessed it before you ever got in a relationship when you two were still just really good friends.

But you want to change that a little? Alot???

You want to know what he’d be like if he let loose, so to speak.

It was an accident. Honest. Really. The two of you fell asleep together on the couch marathoning horror movies. Not that shark movies were all that scary or quality, but it was all that was offered on Netflix so how could you resist?

...And how could you resist touching your boyfriend in the early hours of the morning? You were just fixing his sleep shirt when it rode up, and his pelvis arches were just...there. Iliac crests, they were called, you recall, as you trail your fingers over them.

He makes no other sound or movement, under than the same calm breathing(???) sounds he’s been doing so you continue on. One spot rewards you with a little hum and a sigh but it might’ve been more relaxing than anything so you sadly have to not count it.

You just reached his spine, when you must’ve poked a ticklish spot because Rus jolts and snorts awake in his sleep. You snatched your treacherous hands away so fast, you’re surprised you hadn’t smacked yourself in the face.

Your obvious flustering was suspicious and shady but he, the lazy skeleton that he was, let’s it go and you both got up to go about your morning.

(You should’ve known it wouldn’t be so easy as that.)

“so do you normally grope unsuspecting people in their sleep or am i extra special?” he says, casual as you please, sitting across you at a booth in Muffet’s.

He must’ve waited for the perfect time because you’d taken a large bite of your spider donut and you inhale, choke, and spew donut bits all over the table. Rus sits with a mildly amused, smug little smirk on his fanged face and slides your cup of water closer to you. The jerk.

You croak something at him, probably a denial, more likely a curse, and suck down some sips from your cup. Your cheeks are burning.

“I, uh, I wanted to…” You cough and take another sip. “Wanted to try something.”

“jumping my bones, you mean.” He reaches out and rubs a thumb against your cheek, brushing some crumbs off. You quickly grab his hand and wipe it off with your napkin because dammit, you know he only does that to embarrass you, but not this time!

He just grins at you from across the table, the jerk.

“W-well it um. It’s. I can’t tell you what I’m doing.” You say, a stutter in your voice. Your throat was still itchy from coughing.

Rus raises a bony brow and leans back in his seat, his splayed legs bumping into your knees. “that so.” His tone was indiscernible, neutral, and not like a question at all.

“Uh huh. ...Is. That okay? We don’t have to do it. ...The thing I can’t tell you about.” You mumble, looking down at your hands on the table. You want it to be a surprise. If he expects it, he’ll...you dunno. Hold back. You want to make him feel good. But Papyrus never seems to want himself to feel good.

As expressive as you’ve found out monster skeleton faces were, even in the time you were friends with Rus, and after when you started dating, you never managed the skill of reading his facial expressions like he does to you. He was looking at you now, and you can’t put together what he was thinking or what he was feeling.

“hm. well, it’s not anything illegal is it?”

You sputter. “What, no!”

“nothing dangerous?” He continues on, undeterred.

“No, nothing like that. Just, I want...I just.” You wave your hands around, gesturing uselessly. You glance around at the bar, not many patrons in the afternoon of a Thursday. “I don’t want you to be freaked out.”

The look he gave you, with raised bone brows and quirked jaw tells you, for once, Rus was surprised and incredulous. Maybe he was making it obvious for you.

“if it’s something kinky, i definitely think you’d be more spastic about it than i am, no offense, hun.” 

...True. He shifts in his seat and his legs keep bumping into yours so you trap one of his boots between your feet. Ha, see how he likes that. Actually…

You reach a hand down and touch at his knee and trail your hand upwards, along the coarse fabric of his jeans. His eye sockets widen and you feel his leg jerk under your fingers.

“I guess it’s kinda kinky. You’ll tell me to stop then? If I make you uncomfortable.” You say, as boldly as you can. 

Rus doesn’t pull away and he doesn’t speak, his jaws parted for a moment before blinking and his face masking itself once again. He smirks.

“that won’t be a problem for me at all.” Says your flirty, smooth-talking smug faced shit of a boyfriend, but fine. If that’s how he wants to play it, game on.

You squeeze your hand that’s still on his leg, feeling out the bone under your skin and grin at the sharp little breath he takes. You quickly pull your hand away and release his foot from your legs and resume eating your donut. He chuckles but takes the hint and opens a barbeque packet and squeezes it into his mouth. The rest of lunch went more quietly after that.

The rest of the day, you spend giving Rus little discreet touches. Nothing out of the ordinary, a hand on his shoulder, grabbing his hand to hold, pulling him into a hug. Fine, you also drag your fingers across his ribs over his sweater and grab his iliac crests but! They’re there so why not? 

Physical affection in public makes him shy away so you don’t do it often or for long. Something about living in the Underground, he told you once. After the first time you dance away when he tried to do it back, he didn’t do it again but he gives you these _looks_ every time. And without fail every time, you get a thrill racing up and down your spine, excitement filling your gut.

Like baiting a lion in its cage.

When you get home you pull up netflix and continue off the movie from last night before you fell asleep and put a frozen pizza into the microwave. Papyrus migrates to your couch, as per usual. You try to keep the creepy grin off your face at how easily he follows along to your plan.

You skip out of the kitchen and sat yourself down next to Rus with a bounce. He grunts as you settle and shifts around to accommodate you. Oh god, it was the three headed shark movie, what were you thinking? You stare at the screen in disgust before scooting closer to the taller skeleton. 

Touch time? Touch time.

When you reach out to grab the pelvis you feel a hand grab yours and you peek up through your hair. Rus was looking back down at you with a tight little quirk to his fangs. Too much? Oh, no, he’s directing your hand to his spine. Oh. _Ohhh._

Then hands on your hips, tugging you into his lap and you unscramble your legs to settle around his upper femurs.

“we still doing, nnn, your little game?” His voice quivers as you grasped the ridges, a little bit rougher than the bones of his hands. Kind of like clay more than porcelain. Shit man, you’re really, really tempted...but no! You can’t!

“Uhm. Well, I’m still doing my thing so! Just sit back please.” You smile and smooch him just above the nose hole. A large hand touches the back of your neck and something warm, wet and buzzing swipes over your mouth and the tip of your nose and you squawk in protest.

“fine, fine, whatever you say.” He shrugs, slumping back, his hands falling away to his sides and trying to play it cool even though there was a rusty orange flush glowing on his cheekbones. You instantly miss his hands on your skin, nope. You wipe your mouth and stick your tongue out at him. He sniggers, a low little ‘nyeh-heh-heh’, so you lean in and kiss at his clavicle. You can feel him breathe in, sharply. and you grin. Hah.

Remembering your hand, you trail it up to grip onto a floating rib. It felt like his spine, rarely touched and unpolished. There were strange scratching noises so you look down to see Rus’ large paws kneading into the couch. Your boyfriend must be feeling needy from being touched all day, soft fluttering little things without much reprieve.

His jacket’s in the way though, so you pull the hoodie away from his shoulders, pressing as close as possible. You press kisses to his jaw and the vertebrae that made up his neck, a great idea coming to you and press your tongue to the bones in a shy little lick. Your efforts are rewarded by a low little burr, vibrating against your chest, along with a little bit of a bone rattle.

There’s a glow brightening up between you, and you might have a guess as to why that is. It’s pressing up against you. Your other hand occupies itself with setting down into his pelvis. And you mean in, right up against his pubic arch, where his cock is manifesting on the other side.

“fuck, okay okay, can i touch you now,” You hear pressing into your hair. “c’mon, c’mon, i wanna fucking touch you.”

Desperate sounds good from Papyrus. You shake your head and he growls, shifting his hips under you. You move your hips back into him with a vengeance and clamp your legs down around him. He groans, shaking and burnt-sugar sweet with the pleasure of it. Sweet as sin.

The unmistakable sound of the microwave beeping rings from the kitchen and you look up. Oh, damn, the pizza. Fuck, _ugh_ , but your boyfriend! All wrecked, panting and wanting!

But _pizza._

You can work with this. You pull your hands away and stand up. Papyrus blinks up at you, his ribcage moving visibly and audibly from how hard(hee) he was breathing. Wow, he was really rattling!

“Food’s ready!” You chirp, getting to your feet. You scamper off to the kitchen without looking back.

Your heart's beating really fast when you open the microwave to pull out the pan. Jesus, you’re so jittery, you nearly ran over your fingers using the pizza cutter. You throw the cutter into the sink and wipe your hands on your thighs. You bite your lip and try peeking into the living room where you left Rus, edging closer to the fridge for a better look. Wait, where’d he-

Large bony hands grab your shoulders from behind and you’re turned around. Your back hits against the fridge and a hard, bony body is pressing up against you. Scraping fangs nibble at your lips and you- shit, fuck, open your mouth to say you don’t even know what, before an orange tongue, warm and buzzing with magical energy is snaking it’s way inside.

Fuck. What. Nngh.

Claws, you forget he has claws, dull as they are when they’re shoved into his pockets so much but you definitely feel them now, scraping down the skin of your back and you squeak, arching away because that tickles, damnit.

Then those hands grab under your ass and haul you up and, squealing, you’re left to cling onto Rus’ shoulders as he wraps your legs around him. The bulge of his dick is pressing directly against some choice parts of your own.

You thought he would look ravaged. Overwhelmed and shaking but no he’s...the look on his face was indescribable. Intense and focused on you, alight and savage.

“well i hope you had your fun darlin,” he says, voice a rough growl. 

This is where you die, probably.

**Author's Note:**

> lmao just kidding brace yourselves, this continues on in aNOTHER chapter!


End file.
